I'm Addicted To Blaine Freakin' Anderson
by Blaine's Tummy
Summary: The five times Kurt Hummel's addicted to something and the one time Blaine Anderson gives him something to get addicted to.


**Author's Note: I'll give you a little warning: there is much sexy thinking and a tad bit of kissing-that-turns-into-grinding smut but there is nothing too hardcore so I saw no need to rate it above teen. And mentions of a disco stick. Thank you and please read on.**

_Addiction Number 1: Lady Gaga_

Blaine was just beginning to become accustomed to having his crush sleeping in the same room as himself. It had never happened before, he had always made sure of that, but this was like some cruel twist of fate.

When Kurt had first come to Dalton Academy, Blaine's roommate had been Tanner and Kurt had been assigned to room with Sammi who happened to be fraternal twin brothers. Kurt had only been here a week when Tanner and Sammi moved away with their parents, going to Mississippi or something like that. The school board then had the bright idea to move Kurt and Blaine because they didn't like anyone having a room to themselves so there was less of a chance of their being girlfriends snuck in and sex being had- but they weren't stupid and they knew that, no matter what they did, teenage boys would be teenage boys and some just so happened to be gay and have relationships within the school. So, what happened, just happened.

Now Kurt was taking a shower, steam seeping out the cracks of the door, and Blaine, laying on his stomach on his bed, attempting to read a book, was trying not to imagine Kurt naked with delicious droplets of water moving down his smooth, pale skin...

Blaine shook his head, concentrating on where he thought he had been in his book, then realizing he couldn't remember anything that had happened on the page before and had to start all the way over. He tried to only think of Lord Voldemort, fighting, wizardry, and Harry Potter and not the boy on the other side of that door, listening to his Lady Gaga CD stuck on permanent repeat, as always, singing along to every song.

"Let's have some fun,  
This beat is sick  
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick

Let's have some fun,  
This beat is sick  
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick

I wanna kiss you  
But if I do then I might miss you babe  
It's complicated and stupid

Got my ass squeezed my sexy cupid  
Guess he wants to play,  
Wants to play  
A love game  
A love game

Hold me and love me  
Just want touch you for a minute  
Maybe three seconds is enough for my heart to quit it.

Let's have some fun,  
This beat is sick  
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick  
Don't think too much just bust that kick  
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

I'm on a mission,  
And it involves some heavy touchin' yeah.  
You've indicated your interest,  
I'm educated in sex yes.  
And now I want it bad,  
Want it bad.  
A love game,  
A love game.

Hold me and love me.  
Just want to touch you for a minute.  
Maybe three seconds is enough for my heart to quit.

Let's have some fun,  
This beat is sick  
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick  
Don't think too much just bust that kick  
I wanna take a ride on your disco stick

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

I can see you staring there from across the block with a smile on your mouth and your hand on your huh  
The story of us it always starts the same with a boy and a girl and a huh and a game!  
And a game  
And a game  
And a game  
A love game!

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

Let's play a love game,  
Play a love game  
Do you want love or you want fame?  
Are you in the game?  
Dans le love game?

_Oh, fuck... _Blaine felt his southern regions hardening and he groaned as he pictured the exact meaning behind Lady Gaga's Love Game, imagining him and the singer... _Curse Kurt's Lady Gaga obsession..._

_Addiction Number 2: Texting_

The Council was talking about possible song selections for the Regional's setlist, calling upon those who raised their hands to make suggestions and writing them on the board to be considered and either shot down or nominated as a maybe. Blaine was trying his best to listen but Kurt's maniac fingers going ninety miles an hour as they typed out text after text were pretty distracting. Well, Kurt in general was might distracting, but his damn texting addiction wasn't helping.

He nudged the small boy gently with his elbow, causing Kurt to hop a little away from him. He had to smother his giggles with his mouth and Blaine was reminded how insanely ticklish his crush was.

Blaine smirked, storing that information away for later. "You should be listening, not texting," he scolded gently.

Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes, half sarcastic but something else unidentifiable lay in that other fifty percent. "This isn't math class, Blaine. And it isn't like my input would change anything," he said with a nonchalant shrug.

He frowned, seeing through Kurt's aloof facade. He saw that his crush wasn't fitting in all too well with the Warblers and their system of doing things during "Glee practice". He missed the open atmosphere and family-like qualities New Directions supplied him with.

Blaine slung an arm carelessly around Kurt's shoulders, not thinking about the consequences, just knowing that Kurt needed someone to lean on. Kurt looked up at him and smiled, scooting a little closer on the couch and leaning into his side. Friends could snuggle, right?

"Who are you texting, anyways?" he asked curiously, trying to get his mind off the fact that guy friends usually didn't snuggle. Girl friends could snuggle and hold hands but not guys. Why was that? Because we live in such a straight world.

"Barack," Kurt replied, sarcasm practically dripping from the single name.

Blaine feigned shock, like he actually believed Kurt, because two could play at the Sarcasm Game. "Really? I thought you were texting Alexander."

The other boy gaped at him before slapping his arm. "There is no joking about Mr. McQueen. Rest his soul." He did that little thing that some Christians do, making a cross on his chest, looking up at the ceiling.

He rolled his eyes, pulling Kurt close again. "My apologies Mr. McQueen. Think he can ever forgive me?" he asked, glancing up at the ceiling.

Kurt shrugged, glancing up at his Crush with a small smile, enjoying this rare moment of intimacy. "Not sure. It was said that Alexander could hold a grudge for years." Feeling daring, he brought his lips up to Blaine's ear. "I wouldn't get my hopes up," he whispered into the other boy's soft ear.

Kurt, leaving Blaine blushing up a storm, resumed his comfortable sitting position, snuggled into the boy. "I was texting New Directions, if you must know. Which means I was talking to Mercedes, Tina, Quinn, Rachel, Finn, Artie, Noah, Sam, Mike, Santana, Brittany minus Lauren who took my place." He scowled but, within his blue/green eyes, Blaine could see how sad he was. "I can't believe _she _took my place. She will never rise to my level of singing ability."

"Blaine. Kurt," Wes interrupted, smirking at the two boys. "If you're done, we'd like to talk about a duet for the two of you."

Kurt gaped at the boy, unable to say anything. He then dramatically fell back into the couch. "I must be dreaming," he muttered disbelievingly, throwing a hand over his forehead for good measure, making the other warblers laugh.

_Addiction Number 3: Being Tickled_

"So... x equals triangle?" Alexander inquired, his eyebrows still scrunched up in confusion. "No, no wait." He held up a hand to stop Blaine from correcting him. "X equals pi." He sounded far more confident.

"Exactly." Blaine gave him a proud smile and clasped his hand on his shoulder. "Call me if you need any more help but please attempt the homework at least three times beforehand."

"Yes, Mother," Alexander rolled his eyes, twirling out of the way of Blaine's slap that was aimed at the back of his head. "No, wait, you're _worse _than my mother. What does that make you? Super Soccer Mom? Supply you with a minivan, hijack your hair gel and we shall call you Blair." Alexander began running, laughing boisterously as he slipped into his room. "Love ya, Blair!" he shouted before the door shut.

Blaine rolled his eyes and shook his head. Why, again, was he friends with such immature people?

He entered his room to find Kurt stretched across the former's bed, the wrong way. He smiled at the boy and walked closer, tip toeing as to not wake him if he was, indeed, asleep. He stopped at the side of the bed where Kurt's legs dangled off.

He watched him sleep for a few minutes then he realized how much of a stalker he would look like to Kurt if he were to wake up and see him. He didn't know why he stared but he knew that the other boy looked so peacefully beautiful it almost hurt. He wanted to pour his love onto the beautiful boy but he didn't want to freak him out and make him run.

Blaine couldn't help himself because he suddenly remembered Kurt's love of being tickled. And the boy had brought it on himself because he had fallen asleep on his bed. He got onto the bed, straddling Kurt's waist, and began to tickle beneath the sleeping boy's armpits.

Kurt mumbled something, shifting a little, then suddenly woke up with a squeal. He began laughing terribly hard, pressing his arms down to try and get Blaine to remove his hands.

Blaine laughed along, smiling at how precious his Crush was whenever he was laughing and out of breath. He moved his hands down to Kurt's sides, still tickling.

"C'mon, Blaine! Stop it!" he squeaked between laughs, trying to swat away his Crush's hands.

Blaine did, still laughing, waiting for Kurt to catch his breath. "Do it again," he commanded softly, sounding oddly like a six-year-old, biting his lower lip.

_Addiction Number 4: Watching Rent_

It was four o'clock and class had finally let out. Kurt had rushed out of French class, which he shared with Blaine, as he always did, and Blaine, who usually had some type of errand to run on Thursdays, decided that it could wait and he'd finally find out where his Crush always runs off to.

Blaine kept to the wall, making a fairly good ninja if he did say so himself, following far enough behind Kurt so that if he did make a noise, he wouldn't be detected. He noticed the boy seemed to be walking towards Wes and Alexander's room.

"Are you trying to be a ninja?" Think of the devil and he shall appear- and scare the shit out of you. "You're failing at it, Blair. And don't you have kids to pick up from soccer practice?"

"Shh!" Blaine said, frantically waving his hands around to shut Alexander up. He glanced back to where Kurt had been and sighed in frustration when he saw the his Crush was no longer there. He then slapped the other boy's shoulder.

"Hey! No need for violence, Mommy! I've been a good boy!" Alexander pleaded in that odd way that layers on the sarcasm, clasping his hands together in a begging way.

"I am not your mother," Blaine said in his best Darth Vader voice, knowing it was supposed to be father and confessing that he was so but mother and disagreeing fit better.

"No... no... no! That's impossible!" he shouted in his best Luke voice.

"Gosh, we're nerds." The other boy shook his head, snickering. "Do you know where Kurt goes every Thursday?" he asked, curious.

"Uh, no. I don't stalk the poor boy, unlike you. Honestly, you're exactly like a lovesick puppy, I swear. Next you'll be nipping at his heels and licking his face- wait, you probably already do," Alexander said, rolling his eyes and waved his hands around in something like fluttering bird wings.

Blaine crossed his arms over his chest, muttering, "I don't resemble a puppy in the slightest."

The taller boy laughed and slung an arm casually over Blaine's shoulders. "No need to get pouty. Kurt always watches _Rent_ Thursdays in my room with Wes, David, Alexis, Jerry, and Ray." He suddenly placed a hand over his mouth, jokingly shocked. "Whoops! Kurt's gonna kill me for letting that one loose." He shrugged. "Oh well. It's always this huge sob-fest and I refuse to step foot in there. I end up sleeping on the ground outside the door."

"So you're that zombie I tripped over last Thursday!" Blaine exclaimed in recognition. "You evil bastard- you scared the shit outta me!"

"And you screamed like a five-year-old girl," Alexander stated matter-of-factually, smirking. "I make a pretty good zombie, don't I? My noises were," he kissed his fingers, "perfecto!"

Blaine shook his head, looking down the hall where Kurt had disappeared. "Well, why didn't he tell me about this? Why would he keep this a secret?" he asked mostly to himself, frowning. "It's just a movie."

"It's a musical movie. All about singing, AIDS, dancing, hobos, gay guys, lesbians, strippers, and basically being down on your luck in life. One big sob story. They also take different parts and act them out- because they have _every single line _memorized. Kurt always, though cliched, takes on the roll of Angel. I will never know why he didn't wanna play the transvestite back when he was doing The Rocky Horror Picture show at McKinley," he rambled, making many gestures with his hands, as he usually does.

The shorter boy finally got it because Kurt knew that he would rather watch sports than a musical. Breaking the cliché was rather nice whenever possible. Not that he didn't mind watching the occasional musical with Kurt, because his Crush sat through the occasional football game with him.

So, next Wednesday, Blaine got his errands done so Thursday would be open and, that next day, he managed to catch Kurt before he could run off. "Hey, could you come back to my room?" he asked in his sweetest voice, his eyes wide and hopeful, because that always worked on him when his sister or mom did it.

Kurt looked reluctant but he finally agreed, because that face was about to drive him crazy. He allowed his Crush to pull him towards the latter's bedroom, feeling all tingly inside because Blaine was holding his hand, hoping he couldn't feel the sweat forming in that exact place. His mind flashed back to a million years ago, when he had came here to spy on the Warblers, and had first met Blaine. "What are we going to do in your room? I've got... stuff... to do."

Blaine smirked secretly. "You'll see," he promised, stopping at his dorm and resting his hand on the knob. "Close your eyes."

This got Kurt excited and slightly nervous. He complied and asked curiously, "Is it a surprise? Will I like it?"

"Yes, and I certainly hope so," the older boy replied with a chuckle, opening the door and leading Kurt inside. Wes, David, Alexis, Jerry, Alexander, and Ray were already seated inside, some on the couch in front of the television, the rest on the floor on some blankets and resting back against pillows, _Rent _already at the menu screen, tissue boxes littered the floor as well as a few bowls of popcorn and soda cans. "Alright, open your eyes."

Kurt did as he was told and gasped, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, blushing a light pink. "Who... who told you?" he asked in a defiant whisper.

Blaine smiled brightly. "A little birdy whispered it in my ear."

"Pavoratti?" the smaller boy asked with a hint of a smirk.

All the boys laughed before settling in and watching the movie. Everyone cried, except Alexander- even Blaine shed a tear when Angel died, whom Kurt had taken on the roll of, and just the thought- the mere idea- of his Crush dying was heartbreaking.

_God, he was in love..._

_Addiction Number 5: Shopping_

"Blaine. We've _gotta_ go shopping."

_Not _the words Blaine wanted to hear the second he woke up Saturday morning.

Sure, shopping wasn't that bad. He could deal with going to the mall for an hour or so and visit Gap and Footlocker. But that was about it.

Shopping with Kurt was spending the whole day, prowling the mall for only the best designer clothes. Blaine wondered how in the world he paid for all of that name brand stuff. He could just deal with blazers and jeans. Kurt labeled his style "purely atrocious and a waste of closet space". Blaine's fashion sense- or lack thereof- was the reason the smaller boy had just suggested a shopping trip.

"Um... not that I would ever turn down a day of shopping," Blaine said sarcastically, "but can I ask why?"

"C'mooon, Blainey," Kurt whined, jumping onto the boy's bed, fully dressed, hair perfectly in place, skin soft as a baby's bottom. "I haven't been shopping in forever. Plus, you could stand for some clothes other than blazers and gray pants with the occasional jeans."

"Blazers and gray pants are the dress code," Blaine informed him uselessly, knowing perfectly well what Kurt actually meant.

"You know what I mean, Sherlock." Kurt gave him that look that said, "Please, Bitch." "Now, get your cute ass outta bed, into your best pair of jeans while I find you a suitable shirt of my own that isn't a button-down and positively no blazer in sight."

"I have other shirts than just button-downs," he defended, blushing just a little because of the 'cute ass' comment, sitting up in his bed, his hands holding him upright from behind.

The smaller boy raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow before doing an about-face and disappearing inside my closet. "Button-down, blazer, blazer, button-down, gray pants, gray pants, gray pants, button-down-"

"Okay, okay!" Blaine threw up his hands in surrender as he slung his legs off the side of his bed. "Point made."

Kurt came out, smiling triumphantly, carrying a pair of Blaine's best jeans. "Put these on." He tossed the jeans onto the bed and hurried into his own closet.

The other boy couldn't help but smile, shaking his head at how cute Kurt was without even trying. He stood, shimmying out of his pajama bottoms. He pulled on the selected jeans, listening intently to Kurt humming Katy Perry's Teenage Dream, which brought him, once again, back to their first meeting. He wondered if anything ever brought Kurt back to that time, or any of their special times together, but he realized that the other boy was, in absolutely no way, as smitten as he was. He removed his shirt, thinking about how insanely in love he was and how impossible it was for Kurt to ever return any feelings.

Kurt had finally found the perfect shirt of his, one that his dad had bought for him- which would explain the too large size- but it was surprisingly fashionable for his dad to have picked it out. He walked out of the closet and came to an immediate halt when he saw a half naked supermegasexyfoxyawesomehot Blaine just standing there, smiling, looking like he was remembering some really awesome memory, and he wished with all his heart that there was even a possibility that they had shared the memory together.

"Um... here. Put a shirt on. Please," Kurt finally said, once he could find his voice, trying with all his might to layer on the sarcasm as he suspected he probably would in a situation like this. But he'd never _been_ in a situation like this and he never thought he _would be_ in a situation like this. But now he was and he had no clue what he should do other than jumping the other boy's bones.

Blaine was broken from his trip down Memory Lane and turned to smile at his crush. He grabbed the shirt and slipped it on, not noticing the light blush coloring his Crush's usually-red cheeks or the way Kurt had deliberately turned away while he changed even when they'd seen each other half naked in the locker room plenty of times before. "I say we take your car. Don't want another mishap like last time," he suggested, remembering how the millions of bags had been spilling into the front seats of his tiny car.

It was seven o'clock. In the afternoon. And their shopping expedition had started at nine o'clock. In the morning. Blaine was in that stage between "Let's sit and rest for a minute" and "I'm going to be falling asleep in about ten seconds". He was a walking zombie.

"I didn't need all of these clothes, Kurt," Blaine mumbled, sinking deep into the comforting leather of Kurt's car.

"Hey, I offered to buy but you insisted," the other boy defended, positively too energetic for having just spent hours upon hours shopping nonstop, starting up his car.

"That isn't the problem. I'm exhausted and merely whining," he explained, his eyes falling shut, smirking. "How are you still resembling a puppy?"

"I resent that." Kurt slapped Blaine's shoulder good-naturally before pulling out of the parking lot. "And shopping, much like makeovers, are like crack to me. Addicting and fun but without the consequences." He thought for a moment. "Except when you run out of money. But, even then, you can still try on clothes and window shop."

"I'm pretty sure there's a rehab for that," Blaine muttered, snickering. "Not that I want you going to some rehabilitation place because-" He listened to the Pink song for a moment, "you are fucking perfect." He smirked, not believing how fantastic the timing was.

"Pink always speaks her soul. That's always been the best thing about her. Because she does it while everyone else is rapping about sex, drugs, money, and more sex."

"Amen, Brother."

_And the one time Blaine got Kurt addicted to something: Blaine Fucking Anderson_

Kurt was working rather diligently(not really) on his homework when a loud bang, made him jump, his eyes search for the noise. He noticed Blaine standing beside the far end table, a hand resting on a portable boom box.

"Hey," the standing boy greeted, smiling.

"You scared me," Kurt stated, because he had been alone in the commons room and he hadn't heard his Crush enter.

"Good." He brushed his fingers along the wooden table. "Because I'm actually Marley's ghost and I'm here to tell you to stop studying so hard." His eyebrows scrunched up as he walked closer, smoothly sliding into the seat across from Kurt.

"What's with the boom box?" the other boy asked, gesturing to it with a tilt of his head.

"I need you to sing with me," Blaine immediately blurted out but quickly backtracked because he didn't want his Crush to expect anything just yet. "Actually I need you to rehearse with me. I gotta gig singing Baby, It's Cold Outside in the King's Island Christmas Spectacular." He made the 'spectacular' hand movements.

"Ahh," he said in understanding, smiling, "a personal favorite. Too bad they'd never let us sing it together."

Blaine's eyebrows were pulled down in confusion.

"I mean, us two artists."

Blaine nodded, understanding. "So you gonna help me out here?"

"Anything to get me to stop reading about Charlemagne," Kurt relented easily, glaring down at the offending history book.

"Very good then." Blaine flipped Kurt's book closed, to rid every thought of Charlemagne from his Crush's head, smiling excitedly as he returned to press the play button on his stereo.

The music began to play and Blaine twirled so he was facing Kurt and began to dance over to the boy. He leaned back against the couch and they sang.

"_I really can't stay_ - **But baby it's cold outside**  
_I've got to go away_ - **But baby it's cold outside**  
_This evening has been_ - **Been hoping that you'd drop in**  
_So very nice_ - **I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice**  
_My mother will start to worry_ - **Beautiful, what's your hurry?**  
_My father will be pacing the floor_ - **Listen to the fireplace roar**  
_So really I'd better scurry_ - **Beautiful, please don't hurry**  
_Well maybe just a half a drink more_ - **Put some records on while I pour**

_The neighbors might think_ - **Baby, it's bad out there**  
_Say, what's in this drink?_ - **No cabs to be had out there**  
_I wish I knew how_ - **Your eyes are like starlight**  
_To break the spell_ - **I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell**  
_I ought to say no, no, no, sir_ - **Mind if I move in closer?**  
_At least I'm gonna say that I tried_ - **What's the sense in hurting my pride?**  
_I really can't stay_ - **Baby don't hold out**  
_**Ahhh, but it's cold outside**_

_I simply must go_ - **But baby, it's cold outside**  
_The answer is no_ - **But baby, it's cold outside**  
_This welcome has been_ - **How lucky that you dropped in**  
_So nice and warm_ - **Look out the window at that storm**  
_My sister will be suspicious_ - **Gosh, your lips look delicious**  
_My brother will be there at the door_ - **Waves upon a tropical shore**  
_My maiden aunt's mind is vicious_ - **Ohhh your lips are delicious**  
_Well maybe just a cigarette more_ - **Never such a blizzard before**

_I've got to go home_ - **But, baby, you'll freeze out there**  
_Say, lend me your coat_ - **It's up to your knees out there**  
_You've really been grand_ - **I thrill when you touch my hand**  
_But don't you see_ - **How can you do this thing to me?**  
_There's bound to be talk tomorrow_ - **Think of my life long sorrow**  
_At least there will be plenty implied_ - **If you caught pneumonia and died**  
_I really can't stay_ - **Get over that hold out**  
_**Ohhh, baby it's cold outside**_

The whole song was sung flirtatiously, with little dance steps that brought them close and teased but never went all the way. But, at the end, Kurt found himself trapped between Blaine's body and the back of the couch, his hands firmly clasped on the couch on each side of Kurt, both boys only slightly breathless.

"You know," Blaine said lowly, his voice gruff, "I was lying about the whole Kings Island Christmas Spectacular," he admitted. "I just wanted an excuse to sing that with you."

"Why did you sing it with me, exactly?"

"So I could do this." Blaine proceeded to press his lips onto Kurt's, in what was supposed to be a totally chaste, sweet peck, but, in quick succession, turned into something a hell of a lot better.

Kurt, shocked but happy with this advance in their relationship, wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, tilting his head up and scooting down just a little to accommodate with the other boy's shorter height and give him better access. Blaine caressed the taller boy's cheek, his arm winding around his slim waist.

Blaine began to pull back- to end the kiss, Kurt was sure- but Kurt kept him close with a firm hold around his neck. "No, Blaine," he said, his voice breathy. "Kiss me harder." He wasn't ready to let go of something he'd wanted ever since that first meeting on that staircase.

Blaine chuckled but returned to pay more attention to the boy's needy lips. His arm tightened around Kurt's waist, pressing their bodies flush against each other. Their groins connected at the same time their tongues did.

"And to think this all started out with good intentions," Blaine breathed as their lips parted for a moment, Kurt's lips descending to the boy's neck.

Kurt chuckled breathlessly, cool air making the older boy shiver. "The road to hell is paved with plenty of those."


End file.
